Sour Girl
by Honeybee1111
Summary: A sequel to A Mirror Cracked, featuring the twisted offspring of our heroes. You'll find both slash and het romance here, so only the open minded need read. This is heavily about original characters, but TnT and Archer's MU selves appear.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Star Trek isn't mine, no profit made.

This story won't make that much sense unless you've read my story "Seeing Angels" which introduces Trip and T'Pol's children and Archer and Hernandez's son. This is about their MU counterparts, but it takes place a few years before "Seeing Angels" so T'Mir, Lorian and Henry are in their late teens. This is also a sequel to "A Mirror Cracked", in which TnT and a revived Archer end up members of the Imperial Family.

Thanks to Aquarius for the beta.

* * *

T'Pol of Vulcan did not need as much sleep as her human husband, who slept at her side. She lay underneath their velvet comforter, and she looked out the window of the palace into San Francisco Bay. The lights on the water were visually pleasing, though she longed to go home to Vulcan. Her life was simpler there, and she felt more in control of the world around her. Even her husband preferred it there, as did their three children. Alas, those children were part of the Empire's Imperial family, and they could no longer pretend to be uninvolved the dark world of Earth's politics. The Empress had plans for all of them.

She glanced over at Charles, sleeping soundly. She carefully got out of bed and put a robe on over her nude body. She left the bedroom, and with the fine silk rugs soft beneath her feet, she walked carefully to the main living area of their apartments, past the bedrooms of her daughter and younger son. Her older son, Lorian, had been given his own apartments during this trip to Earth. As she passed her daughter's room, her keen Vulcan hearing heard mumbling and sobbing.

T'Pol sighed. T'Mir had been upset for days. As she stood at the door to her daughter's bedroom, and she took a deep breath. She was the governor of her home planet, a member of the Imperial family by marriage and used to people following her orders.

Her sour-tempered daughter, however, didn't like to follow orders. T'Pol had requested she stop acting out and take steps to improve her mood. T'Mir had only responded with more outbursts of emotion.

"T'Mir," she said strongly, "come out of your room, and we can discuss this logically."

T'Pol waited, but the only response was the sound of shattering glass against the door. T'Mir must have thrown a glass or a vase. T'Pol sighed. This was melodramatic even for her.

"You know I can open this door," she said calmly. "I don't wish to violate your privacy. I wish to be invited."

After a moment, the door opened automatically. T'Pol stepped inside. The lights were low, and there was broken glass on the floor, which she carefully stepped around. There was also a fresh mural on the wall, a scene portraying human and Vulcan skeletons in some kind of macabre dance. The central figure was a young female, wearing a white veil and carrying flowers.

T'Pol turned to the corner, where her daughter sat. The young woman was clad all in black, and she stared glassy-eyed out the window.

"T'Mir," said T'Pol, "you know well that you are luckier than most people in this universe, but being a member of the Imperial family means making sacrifices."

T'Mir did not look at her mother. "You married for love," she said glumly.

T'Pol inhaled. "I did," she said, "but my position in my government was not my choice. I would have rather stayed a scientist. You will marry this young man from Romulus, and you will be allowed to keep your chosen profession."

T'Mir shook her head. "It's not worth it. I'll do anything Aunt Elizabeth wants. Anything. But this is like slavery," she said.

T'Pol nodded. "If the young man harms you in any way," she said, "I promise I will take care of him, but he's a hybrid as well, and the pictures indicate he is handsome. You might find him agreeable."

T'Mir folded her arms. "I won't."

T'Pol blinked. This marriage was important diplomatically, and most Vulcan marriages were arranged. T'Mir had grown up on Vulcan, but she had begun showing her human side when she learned she was betrothed to a stranger. T'Pol empathized, but she stood firm. The marriage was part of a treaty with the Romulans that could save millions of lives.

"I've decided that you should go to Vulcan several weeks earlier than planned. The new starship will be ready for a test run, and Vulcan isn't too far. Your father and I will stay behind, but Lorian will be given his first chance at captaining a mission. This way, you will have a few weeks to get to know your prospective husband prior to the wedding."

T'Mir finally turned to look at her mother. "So, Lorian's to be my jailor? I can escape from him."

T'Pol inhaled. "And go where?"

T'Mir said nothing, she just kicked the side of her dresser. T'Pol approached, and she knelt next to her daughter.

"You're 18 years old. You must cease acting like a child," she said holding out her hand.

T'Mir glared, but she held out her hand, and her mother gripped it. T'Pol sent whatever serenity and peace she had in her own mind to her daughter. She also sent love.

* * *

The next evening, Charles Tucker sat in a rough tavern off Market Street, enjoying a craft beer. Even with only one good eye, he could tell his son was nervous. Sure, the boy's outward expressions of nervousness were Vulcan and included some unnecessary collar straightening and slight inability to concentrate, but Charles had lived among Vulcans long enough so he knew the signs.

"Are you excited?" asked Charles.

Lorian, his eighteen-year-old son, shrugged. "I think the crew will hate me for my youth. They know I didn't earn the position."

Charles laughed. "If they think that, then they know nothing about growing up in the Imperial family. You've earned it, but you'll need to be strong, show you are in control. I know you can do that."

Lorian inhaled, and he sipped his beer calmly. "Truth be told, father, I'm far more worried about dealing with my sister, than I am for a seven day command. Although, I think I can handle the command. I plan to work late into the night on our customs filings and duty schedules."

Charles smiled. He was somewhat nervous about sending his daughter to be married, but he'd negotiated with the Romulans himself. The young couple would live six months on Earth and Vulcan and six months on Romulus, and they would represent a future of peace.

At first Charles had resisted arranging a diplomatic marriage for his daughter, but his wife had convinced him that it was in her best interest. Charles and T'Pol had no doubt Lorian and Charlie, their sons, would be fine finding Vulcan or human mates. But T'Mir's fragile mental state made her a difficult case. Charles believed that another hybrid, one who apparently was fascinated by Earth culture, might be an ideal match for his daughter. If the young man wasn't, Charles's wife had ways of taking care of him. It was worth a try.

"Have you chosen a companion for the journey?" asked Charles of Lorian.

Lorian blushed and looked into his beer. "I don't see why I need one…it's a few days."

Charles shook his head, sipping his own beer. His kids had been very sheltered, growing up in palaces and with servants and soldiers showing them the automatic respect due to their imperial status, but being captain of a ship would be different. "Your crew needs to see you as strong, and as willing to reap the benefits of your position."

Lorian sighed. "If I can find one to my liking, I'll bring one."

Charles smirked. "Good. You could use some fun, too. You're far too serious most of the time, and I have a feeling that your sister is going to challenge you. Maybe you could find someone you can talk to as well as…"

"I get it, father," said Lorian as he shook his head, "and I'm still more concerned with T'Mir. She's not going to like being locked up."

Charles laughed. "You're not kidding. I'd double lock the door and post guards."

Charles shook his head. He loved all three of his headstrong children, and he only wanted the best for them in this harsh world. He knew better than anyone how quickly one's status could change, and that most people's lives were cruel and desperate in ways his children probably couldn't imagine.


	2. Chapter 2

Henry Hernandez sat in the small, dark cell, trembling. He'd been there for longer than a day, of that he was sure, but he'd been given no food and the only water came from a faucet that had barely any water pressure. He wondered if they had forgotten him or, if the plan was to starve him.

In the first hours, he had wept, crying out for his mother. Now, he didn't really have any more tears left, and he decided that was a good thing. If he was to be executed, he resolved to be brave. He began breathing in and out slowly, attempting to come to terms with what had happened.

He'd been stupid to offer to courier a message to the capital, but his village was so small and out of the way, he'd jumped at the chance to see the big city and help the black marketers who had saved his mother's life the year before. She had been gravely ill, and only through the black market had she been able to obtain the medicine that cured her. Henry closed his eyes, but he refused to sleep. He wouldn't waste his last hours alive on sleep.

Finally, the door opened. Henry took a deep breath as a guard strode in and pulled him to his feet. The guard roughly held his arm, and when Henry pulled away, the guard slapped him hard.

The guard led Henry down the hall and through the dark corridors of the prison. The sounds of his fellow prisoners weeping and moaning filled Henry's ears. He supposed it was best he was to die quickly before suffering too much or going mad.

But to Henry's surprise, he wasn't taken to the courtyard where the executions happened. He instead was taken out the back door and pushed roughly into a car, which whizzed away.

"Where are we going?" he asked timidly.

The guard responded with another stinging slap, and Henry was quiet after that. After what seemed like at least an hour, they stopped in the back of a large, stately building. Henry was led past the door men and security guards and up a flight of stairs. A guard let them into an elegant apartment. There was a fireplace with a roaring fire, and a sitting area and large windows with heavy curtains.

Sitting at a mahogany desk in the corner was a young man. He barely looked up.

"What do you want, Robbins?" he asked impatiently.

"I've brought you your captain's woman," snickered the guard.

The young man shook his head. "I told you I don't want one."

Robbins laughed. "That's why I brought a boy this time. He's pretty. Just turned 17. He's seems pure. And he was to be executed tomorrow. I suppose if you don't want him…"

The young man looked up from his papers. He was bathed in shadows, but he didn't appear much older than Henry. His voice was quietly forceful, as though he was used to having his orders obeyed.

"What did he do?" asked the young man, who stood up and approached Henry and the guard.

Robbins shrugged. "He was caught delivering a message for some black marketeers."

Henry gulped. The young man stepped out of the shadows, and although he was fair skinned, Henry saw he had pointed ears. He was also very handsome, with a strong jaw and icy blue eyes.

"They execute boys for that?" asked the young man. "Did they even ask if he knew what was in the message?"

Robbins shrugged again.

The young man moved closer, and he stared at Henry. "Lights on, setting five," he said sharply. The room became brightly illuminated.

Henry blushed under the young man's gaze, which had become more intense. The stranger was of medium height, with sandy blond hair and light skin, and clearly very posh. Henry had never seen such a finely made shirt, which was silk embroidered with what might have been silver.

So great was this young man's beauty, that Henry's breath caught in his throat. Henry wasn't sure but he thought maybe this young man could be one of the Empresses human/Vulcan hybrid nephews.

"What's your name?" asked the young man.

"Henry Hernandez, sir," replied Henry meekly.

"You are untouched?" asked the young man. "They didn't…force you into anything since your arrest?"

Henry shook his head. "I'm pure." This was mostly true, as long as Henry didn't count his thoughts or a few stolen playground kisses.

The young man brushed Henry's face with his fingers, very gently. "Who gave you these bruises?"

Henry took a sharp breath, and he glanced over at Robbins but stayed silent.

"I see," said the young man. "Robbins, if you ever mar my property again, you're the one who will be executed, you understand?"

Robbins didn't look too frightened, instead he looked rather pleased. "So you accept your gift, then?"

The young man smiled softly, and he gazed up and down at Henry. Henry suddenly became aware that he hadn't bathed in days and his clothes probably appeared to be rags.

Robbins produced a bronze bracelet from his jacket and handed it to the young man.

The young man opened the clasp. Henry felt himself start to tremble. Bracelets of that kind were worn by slaves.

"Put out your wrist," ordered the young man. "Unless you think belonging to me is a fate worse than death."

Henry closed his eyes, and he held up his left wrist. He felt warm, strong hands clasp the bracelet in place.

"Robbins, strip him of those filthy garments and incinerate them on your way out," said young man casually.

Henry's eyes flew open, and Robbins wore that horrible smirk again as he moved toward Henry. Henry glanced at the young man, the man who was now his master, and he was about to plead, but the man only shook his head.

"I'll get you clothes more appropriate for your new station tomorrow. I assure you they will be the nicest you've ever had," he said as he moved toward a door at the back of the room. As Henry watched his master disappear into the next room, he knew better than to struggle.

As Robbins used a laser knife to cut Henry's clothes from him, it occurred to Henry that this young man's living room was larger than the apartment he and his mother had shared for Henry's whole life. Soon, he was naked and cold and ashamed, but he tried his best to show none of those things. He stood up straight, and he kept his eyes trained on the wall and his hands at his side.

"The shoes, too, boy," said Robbins sharply.

Henry toes off his battered old shoes. He couldn't remember how many times he'd replaced the laces.

"Don't get too comfortable, boy," whispered Robbins. "Vulcans are notoriously rough, and they say he's far more Vulcan than human. I'll wager he'll have you bent over that couch before I reach the car."

Henry bit his lip, but before he could respond, his master returned from the adjacent room, carrying what appeared to be a bolt of red silk.

"You're dismissed, Robbins. Tell your boss I'm grateful for my gift."

Robbins turned on his heel, and he left without another glance at Henry, who was now standing naked, save his bracelet, before the young man who now owned him. Henry blushed as his master looked him up and down, carefully examining his body.

"I'm called Lorian," he said finally, holding out the silk, which Henry now realized was a robe.

Henry turned and put his arms into the sleeves. Lorian turned him forward before he tied the sashes deftly. "Say it," whispered Lorian. "I want to hear you say my name."

Their eyes met. Lorian's eyes were the most beautiful blue Henry had ever seen, and he was gazing at Henry with kindness. "Lorian," whispered Henry, who cast his eyes down.

Lorian seemed pleased, and then he reached back and grabbed Henry's buttock and squeezed it. He laughed and smiled in a very human way. Beautifully human. Henry didn't find his gesture frightening, but rather kind of exciting.

Henry felt himself relax a bit and he smiled for the first time in days, but then, he felt dizzy. He hadn't eaten in days either, and suddenly his body just gave out. There was blackness all around him, and his legs gave way. The last thing he remembered was falling into his new master's arms.

It was a few moments later, and Henry's eyes fluttered open. He was on the sumptuous couch, and Lorian knelt next to him, holding his hand firmly.

"I'm sorry," said Henry. "I haven't eaten in awhile."

Lorian shook his head, "Don't be. They should have fed you." He leaned over and pressed a button on the coffee table. "Melinda, please come," he said.

A few moments later, an older woman appeared in the room.

"How can I help you, sir?" she asked.

"This is Henry. He is allowed whatever food and drink he wishes."

The woman nodded. "What can I get you, Henry?"

"What do you have?" he asked.

Melinda laughed. "Why don't you tell me what you want, and I'll tell you if we have it."

Henry swallowed. "Red curry with shrimp? And Jasmine rice? And Mango Juice?"

Melinda nodded. "I can get that. And you, sir?"

Lorian smiled. "Sounds good, but make mine tofu."

Melinda nodded and disappeared.

Henry tried to get up, but Lorian pressed him down. "I'll not have you faint again," he said.

Henry leaned back, and he stared at Lorian, who was the most gorgeous young man he'd ever seen. He was sure, now, that he was the Empress's nephew. Henry didn't pay much attention to politics, but he wracked his brain for whatever details he could remember. He knew Lorian had a sister and a younger brother, and his mother was the Governor of Vulcan. His father was, if Henry remembered correctly, the lead engineer on the _Defiant_ project, a man with scars on his face.

Henry took a deep breath. If it weren't for Lorian, he'd be dead.

"What do you wish me to do?" asked Henry softly. "I'll do it. I promise. You're, you're very handsome, and you saved my life when you accepted me…you just need to teach me…"

Lorian shook his head. "I won't deny that I accepted you because you're…you're attractive, but we needn't talk about that now."

Lorian paused. He was quiet for a moment before leaning down and pressing his warm lips to Henry's own. Henry felt faint again, but he opened his mouth to Lorian's exploring tongue. When the kiss finished, Henry whispered to Lorian, "You won't be forcing me. I want to."

Before Lorian could answer, Melinda arrived with a tray of food. She set it up on the table, and Lorian helped Henry to a seat. Henry was starving, and he quickly devoured his meal. Lorian ate as well, but neither of them said anything.

When they'd finished and Melinda had come to take the plates away, Henry yawned. Lorian stood up, and he held out his hand.

"Come," he said.

Henry, his heart beating, took Lorian's hand. He led him to a door, and into a bedroom.

"This is the guest room," said Lorian. "My bedroom is elsewhere. You should shower and prepare for bed and then go to sleep. I have plans for you in the morning."

"Yes, sir…Lorian," said Henry, surprised. "Um…"

Lorian raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Um…I'd like my mother to know I'm alive and safe. Can you do that?"

Lorian nodded. "I'll see to it she gets a message," he said as he exited. "Goodnight, Henry. Sleep well."

Henry nodded. Soon, he had showered and brushed his teeth, and he slipped into the fluffy bed with silken sheets, more comfortable than any bed he'd ever slept in. He fell asleep, too tired to dream or even worry.


	3. Chapter 3

Lorian finished his breakfast at his desk, glancing at the guest bedroom door. The boy with the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen was sleeping there. Lorian couldn't imagine what it must be like in a peasant prison, nor could he imagine what it would be like to be sentenced to death and then given a reprieve. So, Lorian thought it best to let the boy sleep.

As he finished his coffee, Lorian thought about his cousin Charles, the crown prince, and his aunt's husband, a man named Jonathan Archer. Lorian didn't like thinking of either of them, but both of them had the same color eyes as the slave boy sleeping in Lorian's guest room. Lorian had always thought such beauty had been wasted on those two, but it was not wasted on his Henry. Lorian sighed. He knew that he'd saved the boy, and that it was Lorian's right to use his gift in whatever manner he wished. On top of that, he had been so consumed by the memory of Henry standing nude his living room that he had had to pleasure himself twice before finding sleep. Most humans would find it absurd that Lorian hadn't gone to the guest room and jumped on his slave, but Lorian's Vulcan values were in conflict with his human desires on this issue.

Lorian's keen hearing heard the guest room door open. Henry padded out, looking around at Lorian's apartment with uncertainty.

"Good morning," said Lorian, standing up.

"Good morning," replied Hank, smiling shyly.

"Did you sleep well?" ask Lorian.

Henry nodded shyly. "Yes, I did. Thank you."

Lorian nodded. He told Henry to sit down at the small table in the living room, and Lorian had him order breakfast from the kitchens. Lorian had to spend the day preparing for his journey to Vulcan.

He sat across from Henry as the boy delicately ate his breakfast, and Lorian noticed his hands were shaking slightly.

"I have much work to do," Lorian said, "but I have plans for you today. You're to be sent to the groomers where you'll be thoroughly cleaned up. They'll give you clothes as well, appropriate for both Vulcan and Earth."

Henry's mouth dropped open. "Vulcan?"

Lorian nodded. "We'll be leaving for there as soon as possible. The journey will be my first as a captain, and you're to be my companion. I wish you to look your best for the role."

Henry nodded. They chatted a bit, with Henry asking what deep space travel was really like. It was surprising to Lorian, as he'd been traveling on starships his whole life. It was hard for him to imagine a person who had never traveled on one.

Eventually, the groomer arrived. He was an older man, and he assessed Henry with a practiced eye. Henry blushed under the man's scrutiny.

"He doesn't need much work, as you can see," said Lorian.

"Do you wish him to be made up as a girl? He'd make a pretty one," said the groomer.

Henry's eyes widened, but Lorian shook his head. "I agree he'd be beautiful, but that's not what I want. You could make his eyes a little Vulcan and perhaps put color on his cheeks and lips. Nothing too dramatic."

Henry was about to say something, but he stopped. Lorian winked at him. "Go. You'll enjoy it. I'll see you tonight."

Henry nodded, and he followed the groomer out the front door. To his only mild surprise, Lorian felt himself looking forward to evening. Henry had said he was willing, and Lorian wanted him.

* * *

Henry had once seen the ancient film called _The Wizard of Oz_, and he felt much like Dorothy in Emerald City that day. He had been bathed, steamed, cleansed, scrubbed and polished. His hair had been styled, his teeth had been cleaned, his nails manicured and his body hair either removed or trimmed. A nurse even came to heal his bruises.

He'd been massaged all over his body with scented oil, an experience that had aroused him, to his mortification. The man giving him the massage had only laughed and said, "let me take care of that for you" and in under a minute Henry had come all over the man's skilled hand. It was the first time anyone else had give Henry an orgasm, and the man acted like it was merely part of his job.

He'd also been measured and fitted for clothes and shoes.

A young woman applied his makeup, and he now wore a fine shirt and pants. His new shoes were polished to a shine.

He still wore his bronze bracelet, however, making his position clear to everyone. He was being treated so well because he was a prize possession of a prince, and Henry had no illusions about what that meant or how quickly things could change.

"The rest of your clothes will be waiting for you on the ship," said the groomer as he placed Henry into a car. "Wait, I'm not going back…?"

The groomer shook his head, and he shut Henry into the car. They drove through the streets, to a shuttle pad. He was taken to a shuttle. He climbed inside to find a pilot and a young woman clad in black. Her dress was of a plain style, but Henry's careful eye saw that it was made of wildly expensive material. She had brown hair, pointed ears and blue eyes, not to mention a rather sourpuss expression that marred her prettiness. She also looked like Lorian, especially her blue eyes and pointed ears, enough so that Henry assumed this was his sister.

"Hello," he said as he sat down next to her.

She glared. "Hi."

"I've never been in space, or on a shuttle," said Henry, not knowing how he was supposed to treat this young woman.

She looked at him, as though that was an alien notion. Henry supposed to her it was.

"You'll get used to it. It just takes some adjustment," she replied in a monotone. "So, you're Lorian's…companion."

Henry swallowed. "Yes, my lady," he said. He assumed that's what he should call Lorian's sister.

She sighed, and she held out her hand. "You can call me T'Mir."

Hank shook it. "You do know I'm a slave?"

She nodded. "So I am I, in a manner of speaking. I'm also part Vulcan. Vulcans don't believe in owning people."

Henry digested this information. No wonder Lorian had been so nice to him. "I was going to be executed, but Lorian…" He didn't really know how to explain.

She looked at him, and she spoke in a low voice. "He needs you. He needs the others to respect him. You remind them that he's in charge."

Henry was about to say that Lorian hadn't done anything to him yet, but he figured that Lorian's sister would find that to be too much information.

She leaned close to him as the shuttle took off. "We might be able to escape together when we reach Vulcan. Come see me when we're on the ship. We can plan."

Henry nodded. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just stayed silent. His heart went out to the girl, but he wasn't sure if escaping on Vulcan was the right choice for either one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry had been given a tour of the new starship, and he had been told expressly that he could go to sickbay, the gym, the mess hall and the captain's quarters without permission. Everything else was off limits.

He sat on the edge of Lorian's luxuriously appointed bed, sipping champagne and looking out at stars whirring past the window. He was half-terrified to be in a tin can flying through warped space, but he had always wished for a more interesting life. It seemed to him that wishes came true, just not in the way one expected.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do about T'Mir's offer, but he was going to help himself to more champagne when the door slid open and in strode Lorian. He wore the gold-adorned uniform of an Imperial Starship Captain, and he grinned at Henry. Henry stood up to greet him.

"You look amazing," said Lorian. "You looked good this morning, but you…" Lorian stopped talking.

Henry held his head high. The irony that as a slave, he had eaten better, slept better and was dressed better than he'd ever been was not lost on him. He was still afraid. He still missed his mother and his friends. He also remembered what Lorian's sister had said, but for now, he resolved to make the best of his situation.

Henry swallowed. "Umm…how was your day?"

Lorian took a deep breath and he sat down on his bed and began to unstrap his boots.

"Being the captain of a starship flying along a known trade route to a known colony under imperial guard is not very eventful, but I enjoyed the tasks that were mine."

Henry nodded, and he stepped forward. Boldly, he moved to sit on Lorian's lap, putting his arm around his neck. Lorian made no move to stop him, he just looked at him for a few moments before leaning over and kissing him. Henry was aggressive, thrusting his tongue into Lorian's mouth. Lorian moaned in response.

"I want to do my job," whispered Henry. "My job is to please you."

Lorian stopped their kisses, and he caressed Henry's face. "I want to take care of you," he replied. "I want to keep you safe."

Henry melted inside. He hardly knew this young man, but he thought maybe he was falling in love with him. That seemed so foolish given Henry's situation. He should have jumped at the chance to plot escape, but for some reason he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Lorian's company.

"Well," said Henry softly, "it's settled." With that, Henry began to unbutton his new shirt, quickly casting it aside. He then unzipped Lorian's uniform jacket. He fumbled awkwardly, not quite understanding the clasps of the uniform, so Lorian began to remove it himself. Henry stood up and removed his pants, shoes and underwear. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Henry stood naked under Lorian's admiring gaze. This time was different, however, as Henry felt no fear or shame, and he was fully aroused. On top of that, he had every intention of seeing Lorian in the same state.

He knelt down and pulled off Lorian's boots, and then helped him slip out of his clothes. Lorian's body was beautiful and sculpted. Henry felt his cheeks get warm as he looked at his erection.

Lorian seemed to catch him staring, and he laughed softly, taking Henry's hand as they crawled together on the bed.

They kissed for awhile, wet sensuous kisses. Eventually, Lorian became the aggressor, running his hands over Henry's body as he pinned Henry to the bed. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Lorian flipped him over.

"Oh," gasped Henry.

After that, things became a delicious blur for Henry, with Lorian's firm caresses and kisses relaxing Henry's body. Slick fingers penetrated him first, but Henry found himself begging for more. He wanted everything, and Lorian gave it to him. It was painful at first, so that his eyes watered and he cried out, but there was pleasure too. Henry dissolved into a dream-like state, as though he could feel Lorian's pleasure in his own mind. Release came to both of them, with Lorian spilling inside Hank's body. Lorian whispered in Vulcan, and strangely, Henry thought he understood.

Henry looked out at the stars as Lorian held him, and Henry began to sob. He wasn't sure why, but the previous days had been so overwhelming. He couldn't help it. Lorian tried to pull away.

"No," mumbled Henry, pulling Lorian close. "It's not you. You're wonderful…"

Lorian held him until the crying subsided, stroking his hair. "I sent a message to your mother like you asked, and you may write her as well. I'll have the message sent by subspace," he eventually said.

This almost made Henry's tears come again, but he held them back. He had no right to complain. He'd committed a crime, and he should be dead. He should count himself lucky. He was, however, very surprised at how aggrieved Lorian seemed to be for him. Lorian, a prince of the Imperial family, seemed to feel guilty for keeping a slave. It was strange, but then Henry remembered what Lorian's sister had said.

"Your sister offered to help me escape," said Henry softly, "if I helped her escape."

Lorian closed his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," replied Henry, "but she says Vulcans don't believe in slavery. They think it's wrong." Henry watched Lorian's face, and he saw guilt there. Henry knew Lorian was more Vulcan than human, and he instinctively knew that Lorian shared this value.

Lorian swallowed, and he looked into Henry's eyes. "If you were to try and escape on Vulcan, you could. The law would be on my side, but very few Vulcans would return you to me. They'd help you go wherever you wanted. T'Mir, however, would be seen as betraying her duty and risking Vulcan lives by endangering a treaty."

Henry sighed. He had no idea what to do. He had no idea what he wanted. He stayed silent, but he settled into Lorian's arms and felt safe there.


	5. Chapter 5

T'Mir paced her cabin, furious that she had no freedom on the ship. She was only allowed to have her meals with her brother in his dining room, take exercise in the gym under the supervision of the guards and beyond that she had to stay in her cabin. Her parents were apparently afraid she'd attempt to steal a shuttle and escape. Cooped up in the tiny space, she did what she always did. She drew, and when she was in a sour mood, she drew on the walls. In the hours she's been locked up, she'd continued her skeleton-family motif, with herself as the ghoulish bride at the center.

She was surprised when she heard a knock on the door. She assumed it was her brother, so she opened the door. Rather than Lorian, she saw his companion, the young man she'd met in the shuttle. He was carrying a small paper box.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she replied glumly.

Henry walked into the room, and he looked around. "This is about half the size of the quarters where I'm staying."

She glared. "I'm not fucking the captain, you are."

He grinned. "Technically, he's fucking me."

T'Mir rolled her eyes. "Ewwwww. I did not need that mental picture."

Henry smirked. "You're the one who brought it up." He paused. "He sent me to keep you company, by the way. I brought pastries from the kitchen."

He opened the box and offered her one of the sweets. She took one, and he did as well. He seemed to delight in every bite, and T'Mir wondered if the boy was used to eating such indulgences.

As Henry ate, he looked around the room and examined the skeletons. "Hey," he said, "is this one, holding Lorian's hand, supposed to be me? That's amazing."

She blinked, and she gave soft smile. She'd seen this boy in her visions before, not knowing who he was for sure. She did, however, know that in the timeline from which the _Defiant_ came, he was important to her as well as to her brother. He also appeared to genuinely like her drawings. This pleased her.

"Do you want to escape with me?" she asked.

Henry was still staring at the skeletal images of him and Lorian. "I told him about you wanting to escape. He said the Vulcans would never let you go. Your marriage is going to avoid a war with the Romulans."

T'Mir felt rage boil up in her. She grabbed a glass from the table and threw it against the window, aimed there to avoid marring any of her artwork. It smashed.

Henry winced, then just stood there. "Lorian told me that he's hot."

"He didn't use those words," replied T'Mir.

"No," replied Henry, "but that's what he meant."

T'Mir grabbed her PADD from the table, and she tapped it. She produced an image of her betrothed. He appeared handsome and human-like, with curly hair and blue eyes, but that was all beside the point.

"Shouldn't I be able to choose?" she asked.

Henry walked up and examined the image. "He is hot. I wasn't able to choose Lorian, but I'm happy."

T'Mir glared. "You've known him for a couple of days."

Henry sighed. "I know, but I've got an instinct. It feels right. Although, I wish I had the benefit of knowing being with him would save millions of lives. That would be icing on the cake, don't you think?" As if to punctuate this, Henry licked some icing from the patries off his finger.

T'Mir took a deep breath. She wondered if Henry knew who his father was. Her visions only came in dream-like pieces, but those, combined with Henry's eyes, allowed her to see what was going to be obvious to everyone if ever Henry ever stood next to Jonathan Archer.

"It's difficult to tell the future," said T'Mir glancing at the wall, "but I'm curious about your past. Who are your parents?"

Henry smiled, albeit a little sadly. "My mother is a former shuttle pilot, but after I was born she became a teacher. I never met my father. He was a Starfleet officer and died on a campaign before I was even born."

T'Mir debated for a moment whether to tell Henry that she was entirely sure his mother was a liar. However, T'Mir also understood the many reasons why Henry's mother would lie, not the least of which was that it was probably mortifying to have been knocked up by Jonathan Archer. She did think she should tell her brother the truth, though, so he could keep his lover far from anyone who could figure out this secret.

"Do you want to play a game?" asked T'Mir, sitting at a table.

Henry sat at the table. "Sure," he replied. "Do you like cards?"

T'Mir grinned. "It's not that kind of game."

She reached over to a bookcase, and she retrieved a sketchpad. She had drawn an image of Henry and herself, and they were laughing. "This is a game where you imagine your life if things were different. If the world was different, but you still exist. Did you know the _Defiant_ was not only from the future but a different future…"

T'Mir went on, sharing with Henry, whom she knew to be a true friend, though he didn't quite know it yet.

* * *

Lorian arrived back to his quarters before Henry did, which he found strange. After he had changed into his silk pajamas and set out a bottle of wine, he had summoned Henry through the communication system, and soon Henry appeared at the door, rushing into his quarters. Henry wore one of his new outfits, a bright blue shirt and black pants. His shoes were polished to a shine.

"Did you know your sister is mad?" asked Henry. Lorian smiled, and he poured a glass wine and handed it to his lover. Henry took the glass. "You didn't answer me."

Lorian took a drink of his own glass of wine. "The visions make her unstable, but the visions aren't wrong. She's not mad." Henry looked incredulous. Lorian sat down at his table and gestured for Henry to do the same. He did.

Lorian proceeded to tell Henry about _The Defiant_, and the future world that was described in its computers.

"My father won't tell me anything," said Lorian, "but I know I"m there. When I was fourteen, he took me to a brothel so I could lose my virginity. He told the madame that I was interested in boys, without me ever having told him. I thought I had hid that I was gay. Later, I asked him what gave me away, and he said nothing had. _The Defian_t version of me had married a young man. That's the only thing he's ever said about the other me."

Henry gasped, and he drank down his wine. "T'Mir said you had a crush on me in the other timeline, but that I didn't know. She didn't say we were married." There was obvious disappointment in Henry's voice.

Lorian smiled. "T'Mir doesn't know the future, only the other presents. If you are my husband in the other timeline, she'll only know when it happens, but I don't doubt that I'd have a crush on you in any universe."

Henry shook his head. "This is crazy. It's all so strange."

Lorian blinked, and his heart went out to Henry. The things Lorian had grown up knowing, even with his father hiding the details, must seem very strange to Henry. Lorian reached out his hand, and he took Henry's. "You'll get used to this world, strange as it is. I promise."

Henry smiled. "I didn't even ask you how your second day of captaining was. I'm not doing my job."

Lorian shook his head. "Uneventful. Certainly less interesting then spending an afternoon listening to my sister prattle on about other timelines."

Henry batted his eyelashes a bit. "Well, maybe it's my job to make it more interesting."

Lorian felt his face get a bit warm. If Henry's intentions hadn't been clear by his lascivious tone, the fact that he suddenly got on his knees before Lorian left no doubt.

"Stand up, baby," Henry whispered.

Lorian obeyed his slave's orders, standing up. Lorian was already hard as Henry undid Lorian's pajama bottoms and pulled them down. Lorian's cock sprang free, and Henry leaned over and licked the tip. Lorian drew a sharp breath. He ran a hand through Henry's black, silky hair. Henry soon swallowed Lorian's cock, bobbing up and down. Lorian moaned and gasped and trembled until he came into Henry's mouth. Henry swallowed, and he stood up and kissed Lorian on the mouth. Lorian reveled in the taste of himself on his lover's lips.

"Never let it be said that I don't take my duty to my prince seriously," whispered Henry in his ear.

Lorian nearly fainted at sheer eroticism of the moment, and as Henry led him to the bed, Lorian wondered if it was possible to fall in love in mere days.


	6. Chapter 6

Lorian and T'Mir were in their maternal grandmother's house, looking out at the gardens and the desert beyond. Henry was sleeping upstairs in Lorian's bedroom.

Although Lorian had hoped to have a quiet morning, that was not to be. He sighed as he sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. He knew he would need extra meditation to absorb what his sister had just told him about Henry. Of course, in hindsight, it made perfect sense. Henry's eyes were the exact same color as Archer's, and there were other similarities, too. Yes, Henry's Hispanic heritage was also obvious in his features and coloring, but there was also the fact that he was named for Archer's famous father.

Lorian should have seen the truth. "You should have told me right away," he mumbled.

T'Mir, who was sipping some Vulcan tea, snickered. "Would you have believed me?".

"Yes," replied Lorian, exasperated. His sister was many things, but she didn't lie about what she saw in her visions.

T'Mir sat down at the table across from him. "I like him. He's my friend."

Lorian lifted his head up. "You've never had a friend."

She folded her arms. "I do now, and he's the one who talked me out of running away. On top of that, you are in love with him."

Lorian blushed. Falling in love with your slave just wasn't done. If people on Earth found out, he would be humiliated and shamed. "He's my companion. I admit, his company pleases me but…"

T'Mir leaned forward. "Don't lie. It doesn't become you. However, love does become you. Plus, you know we're not like regular humans."

Lorian sighed. "I need to tell him."

T'Mir drank the last of her tea. "Which part? That his daddy is alive or that you love him?"

Lorian rubbed his temples. "Both."

T'Mir shook her head. "Tell him about the love first. The father thing, wait. Archer is coming to Vulcan in a few days, and you don't want Henry to do something dumb like try and win Archer over when arrives."

Lorian made a little sound of frustration and shook his head. "I can't keep something this huge from him. We're…we're starting to bond."

T'Mir snickered at that. "Oh, yeah. No. You're not _in love_. You're just _fond_ of him. You enjoy his company," she said rolling her eyes.

Lorian heard someone, obviously Henry, begin to stir upstairs. T'Mir also had keen hearing, and she turned to look.

"It will hurt him," she whispered, "when he finds out."

Lorian nodded. He knew he had to tell Henry, but he would take steps to make sure no one could separate them first.

* * *

T'Mir sat in a grand reception room on Vulcan, all alone. There were guards at every door, but in this room she was alone for the moment. There were at least two dozen chairs, and she sat on the far end, staring at the golden door. Above her head was a huge, gleaming light fixture made of thousands of crystals.

The door opened and a young man walked in without guards. She recognized her fiancé from his images. Like her, he was dressed in all black. He carried a small pot with a red orchid-like flower. He placed it on the floor next to her with a graceful and courtly flourish. Despite herself, she admitted to herself that he was very handsome.

"I'm Dante," he said in perfect English. "At least, that's what my mom translated my Romulan name to. I don't speak Vulcan."

"The flower is beautiful," she said.

"It's traditional for a Romulan suitor to send one to his intended. If she accepts the flower, she accepts him," he said.

T'Mir glanced at the beautiful flower, and she thought of kicking it away, but she didn't. She didn't move to take it, either.

"May I sit?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I understand arranged marriages are traditional for Vulcans. They aren't for Romulans, so I have no idea what to say to you," he said.

She glanced at him. She shrugged. "I have no idea what you should say. I'm a rotten Vulcan. I'm also a rotten Human."

He looked at her. "Not fully one thing or the other. You belong nowhere."

She relaxed. She'd never seen this young man in her visions, but she felt comfortable with him. She liked him. It was an odd sensation, since outside of her immediate family she pretty much didn't like anyone.

"Why did you agree to marry a woman you never met?" asked T'Mir.

He smiled. "No respectable Romulan woman would have a hybrid freak. So, I figured a beautiful hybrid and a peace treaty looked pretty good." He paused. "Although, you'd be prettier if you smiled. You were smiling in the image they sent."

T'Mir smiled, not broadly but she smiled. "That image was taken when my littlest brother was making me laugh. He's good at it."

They started to talk, and by the end of the conversation, T'Mir picked up the blood orchid and put it in her lap. Before they left the room, Dante kissed her on the lips. She didn't mind at all.

* * *

Henry followed Lorian down a long corridor, which was lit by torches.

"Where are we going?" whispered Henry. They'd been on Vulcan for about two weeks, and gotten closer and closer. Henry knew that he could have run away at any time, but the thought had dissipated as he had fallen more deeply in love with Lorian. It was as though their minds had been linked, and according to Lorian, this was probably what was happening.

Since they had arrived on Vulcan, Lorian had treated Henry with great respect, explaining that the Vulcans would be offended by his keeping a slave. Henry knew that Lorian had to respect the laws of Earth while they were there, but on Vulcan things would be different.

Finally, they reached a wooden door. Lorian knocked, and the door opened. A Vulcan priest stood there, and he nodded at Lorian. They went inside, and they saw an altar, lit with candles.

The priest closed the door, and Lorian took Henry's hand in his. He looked into Henry's eyes, and Henry gasped. He knew what was coming, although he could hardly believe it.

"Henry," whispered Lorian, "you know Vulcans are monogamous. We mate for life. You also know that we're in the process of forming a bond. That will make us married in the eyes of Vulcans, but I want a ceremony. I can't change things on Earth, but here on Vulcan, you'll be my husband and my equal. We'll belong to each other."

Lorian knelt before the altar, and he held out his hand. Henry's heart started to beat. This was wonderful, and frightening. He didn't know what the Empress or Lorian's parents would think, but he didn't care. Henry knelt across from him, and the priest began to chant.

* * *

In her bedroom, T'Mir was naked, her legs wrapped around her husband. He pounded into her, forcing her to look at him. His cheeks were stained with her blood, cut from her palm. She had his blood on her cheeks, cut from his palm.

That afternoon, alone in her room, they'd had their own Romulan ceremony, which T'Mir had learned was far more primal in nature that ritualistic Vulcan or Human vows.

Now, as they consummated the marriage, Dante was saying things to her, Romulan and English mixed together, that amounted to being willing to die for her.

He kissed her deeply. He nipped at her neck and ear, and eventually she was overcome by pleasure. He soon followed, shuddering and collapsing on top of her.

She laughed as she recovered. Dante was the one who had had suggested they complete their marriage privately for themselves before the official ceremony for the governments and the public. This would be for themselves alone.

He rolled off her, and he laughed, too. "I think that was the third time, right? I could get used to this."

She was about to respond, when the door to her bedroom flew open. She sat up to see her brother's paramour and her new friend Henry standing there, with his hand over his mouth.

"Don't you know how to knock?" she asked.

Henry, who was blushing and shaking his head. "The knocking opened the door."

She and Dante scrambled under the blankets. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother and I…we…who is that?" Henry said, and he pointed at Dante.

T'Mir glared. "He's my husband. He's the one I came here to marry."

Henry put his hand on his hips. "The wedding is tomorrow," he said.

"T'Mir," said Dante, "who is this?"

T'Mir rolled her eyes. "My brother's…companion. Slave. Boyfriend. Paramour. There are a lot of words. He's fine. He won't tell on us."

Henry laughed. "Seems like there's a lot of marrying in secret today." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I married Lorian this afternoon."

Henry held out his hand, and he displayed both his slave bracelet and a human style wedding ring.

"Your brother married his slave?" asked Dante, incredulous.

T'Mir shook her head, and she took Henry's hand. "My parents are going to flip their lids." She also couldn't help think that Henry didn't know the half of it.

Suddenly, her brother appeared in the doorway.

"T'Mir!" he said.

"It's the betrothed," said Henry as he took his husband's arm. "It's a good thing. By the way, why the hell are your faces covered in blood?'

Dante put his arm around T'Mir. "It's a sacred Romulan ritual, and T'Mir was kind enough to agree to it for my sake."

Lorian rubbed his temples. "Henry, let's let them get dressed. Looks like all of us have things that we aren't going to tell my parents when they arrive."


	7. Chapter 7

Henry looked out at the most beautiful vista he had ever seen, at least since coming to Vulcan. The Fire Plains, as they were called, reminded him of Yellow Stone Park with a little Sedona mixed in. He hadn't traveled much on Earth, but occasionally he had gone with his mother on a few road trips. It had been just the two of them against the world back then.

Now, Lorian had told him that she was a liar, and not a "you look good in that outfit" liar, either. A quick DNA test run through _The Defiant_'s database was all it took to prove that T'Mir's vision was correct, and Henry's father was alive. His father was, in fact, married to Lorian's aunt, who happened to be The Empress. That meant his mother had told a massive lie.

Henry wiped a tear away from his eye, determined to be stoic. He and Lorian weren't the only people on the observation deck, and if Henry cried the other Vulcans might judge Lorian for it.

Lorian came up behind Henry and put his arms around Henry's waist, pulling him close.

"Why didn't she tell me the truth?" asked Henry softly.

Lorian sighed. "I've never met your mother, but I have little doubt it was to protect you. I doubt my Aunt would harm an innocent child, but she would not have been pleased that her husband had fathered one with another woman."

Henry rested his head on Lorian's shoulders. "Do you think he would like me? If he met me?"

Lorian took a deep breath, and he paused. That was all Henry needed to hear before becoming crestfallen. One thing about having a mostly Vulcan husband was that they didn't blow smoke up your ass. Also, Lorian could have kept this a secret, but he didn't. Lorian was doing very well in the truth-telling department.

"Jonathan Archer is a narcissistic, self-preening ass," said Lorian, "but I can't imagine anyone not eventually finding you wonderful."

Henry smiled just a little, admiring Lorian's gift for bluntness and diplomacy. One day, Lorian was to replace his mother as regent of Vulcan, and Henry knew his husband would be wonderful at it. Lorian had also told him that it would be unwise to tell Archer right away, given that Imperial politics would be involved.

"I won't talk to him," said Henry. "I'll avoid him when he comes, just like you asked."

Lorian squeezed tighter. "When we return to Earth, we'll talk to your mother in person. We should tell her you know before we decide when to tell Archer. Besides, if and when we do tell him, I want to make sure you are as secure as possible. I want to protect you."

Henry closed his eyes, secure in Lorian's arms, and as the bond started to flow between them, Henry also felt loved. Yet, he couldn't help wonder what Lorian planned that would make Henry more secure.

* * *

T'Pol grasped her husband's hand under the table, sending him as much calm energy as she could muster. He needed it, considering the news their daughter had delivered.

"I'll marry the Romulan," she said. "I won't run, and I won't complain, but you must not force Lorian into anything similar. You must let his marriage to his slave boy stand. They are bonded, and it would be bad if they were separated."

Charles leaned forward. "You don't even _like_ your brother. Why would you do this?"

T'Mir folded her arms. She wasn't about to admit she was extremely pleased with Dante, so much that she had already married him. That, she wasn't about to share. "I like Lorian's husband. He's sweet, and he is my friend. With him as my brother, I will be able to handle the Romulan."

"You've never had a friend," said T'Pol.

"I do now," she replied. "Promise. Swear. Swear no matter what, you won't try and separate them."

T'Pol glanced at her husband. He nodded. "We promise. Now, we should discuss the wedding…"

T'Mir rolled her eyes. "There's just one more thing. When you meet Henry, you're probably going to notice his eyes. If you ever see him standing next to Uncle Jonathan, you're going to see what is obvious, that Uncle Jonathan is Henry's daddy. Henry and Lorian know, but they have agreed to keep quiet about it."

T'Mir smiled as she saw the look of utter exasperation on her father's face, as he shook his head. Her mother was of course more sanguine, but she raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps its best if the boys stay here on Vulcan," said T'Pol carefully.

* * *

It had taken some doing, but Charles Tucker had arranged things for his daughter's wedding so that it wouldn't blow up in everyone's face. He'd ordered his son not to go around telling all the humans his slave boy was also his husband. He'd also told the slave boy/his new son-in-law to try and be as unseen as possible at the wedding. The boy's name and his obvious resemblance to his father might clue others in, and Jonathan Archer was going to be a guest of honor. Of course, the boy Henry had to attend the wedding with the other members of Lorian's crew, or else that would look strange.

Of course, Charles had known from the records on _The Defiant_ that there was a good chance his daughter would hit it off with the young Romulan hybrid. He'd seen pictures of their counterparts in the other universe, though some of their history was obscured. However, Charles thought it best for T'Mir to discover her attraction to him on her own, which she clearly had.

Her attempts to hide that fact amused Charles, but he was happy for her. He was also happy to discover that Henry Archer existed in this timeline, for his son's sake. That fact also meant Jonathan Archer was a cheating bastard and a cad, but that wasn't news to Charles.

He was content, and as he walked his normally sour daughter down the aisle, he couldn't help but notice her mood had lifted. She wore Vulcan purple, and Charles discreetly ignored the cuts on her palms. T'Pol had said it was part of some sort of primitive Romulan wedding ritual.

As they walked past, Jonathan Archer, he gave a thumbs up to Charles. Charles sighed. He knew the other timeline he and Archer had been best friends, but that was an entirely different Archer. Strange that some relationships, like that of his wife, flowered across different timelines, while others did not.

As he handed his daughter over to the Romulan, he sat down next to his wife, and he grinned to himself. He definitely had lucked out in both universes.

The end


End file.
